Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Steal your baby right off your face.

I will steal your baby. Ok, maybe I won’t technically kidnap your baby with all the craziness and meanness that actually involves, but I will borrow your baby for photographs and a momentary glimpse into what it’s like. I will take a million photos with your baby playing the role of my baby and your baby won’t know any better. Love your baby, I will for the briefest moment. Babies are delightfully poseable creatures that tend to photograph well. Mr. Husband and I are on baby quest 2000. While we do not really want your baby (except for the eight million photographs we need to make ourselves smile), we need, for now, to experience your baby. Your baby is third baby from the womb when we need it.

Overnight, all of the singles became marrieds and, then, had babies to become instant familes (just add water!). Overnight, a Friday evening after work moved from the local bar to someone’s dining room. As if we were all growing vegetables, we grew great, big, new significant lives with more meaning and greater responsibility. We grew. We tended our gardens. We weeded out the unnecessary. In the blink of an eye we became the semblance of certainty. While some stranger was coughing in the other room, we all started down the path that our parents before us marked out with breadcrumbs and birds. When no one was looking, I started to dance with Mr. Husband, the only possible man, and I now find myself dancing with him on Sunday mornings, both of us donning cozy bathrobes, as the coffee maker provides our music. Hold me tight forever.

Mr. Husband and I sit often in the living room and also on the upper porch late at night, discussing our ideas about babies, toddlers, children, and teenagers. We discuss the phenomenon of marriage and family and this challenging thing we’ve thrust ourselves into. We talk. We keep the channels of communication open and believe that if there is a problem, we can begin to solve it with talk. Talking. Talk-a-roo. We ask blatantly and discuss boldly. All of our ideas and thoughts, no matter how absurd, are given arena. We realize that nothing in the world can prepare us for babies and the change that is to come to our lives, but if we keep on sharing our hopes, fears, and dreams—we may be closer than we think to understanding and facing this magical thing together.

I remember the night I fell in love with Mr. Husband. It was all due to his speaking to me frankly and without embarrassment or apprehension. On Saturday, January 14th, 2006, we walked around the track at Ramsay High School in Southside. It was cold and he was wearing his new black cashmere overcoat. We did not touch, not yet, not then. We walked side by side. I could not invite him into my apartment, for we’d only been “seeing” each other for less than two weeks. I didn’t want the evening to end and I didn’t want awkwardness in a closed space like my apartment, so I suggested we walk around the neighborhood. We ended up circling the track while watching our breath in white, cold clouds before us in the night. We asked question after question about our ideas about the world. We found ourselves in a lengthy debate about the nature of wisdom—the definition with examples that provide the answer to “what is wisdom.” I don’t remember what our conclusion was, only that I know he caused the synapses in my brain to fire and fire and make me warm. He made me think. He challenged me. Our talk was so free. I looked out of the side of my left eye and up at his tall figure walking beside me, and I said to myself, “I’m going to date this man.”

For days we continued to discuss wisdom and all her properties. We found that, through this discussion, the two of us hold similar worldviews.
Now, it comes as no surprise that we hold similar views toward raising children and beginning a family. We believe we are being wise in starting a family. While we can continue taking photo after photo with your baby, at some point, we want to add our own.

1 comment:

facingthetrend said...

Your photo names are killing me. Can't stop laughing!